Gilo Waits for Deliverance As Mideast Violence Goes On

It was supposed to take the form of Israeli tanks that swept on Tuesday into the nearby Palestinian-ruled town of Beit Jala, in the West Bank. But until calm returned late Wednesday night and Israeli forces pulled out of Beit Jala before dawn today, things did not work out as planned for Ms. Attias and her neighbors in besieged Gilo, a sprawling development on Jerusalem's southern lip that is home to 27,000 Israelis.

If anything, she said, her situation had worsened for a while.

The move into Beit Jala, for an indefinite stay that lasted two days, was to make life safe for the people of Gilo. For months, they have had their houses fired on by Palestinian gunmen in Beit Jala, which is so close to Ms. Attias's apartment on Ha-Anafa Street that you can practically throw a bullet from there and hit her sand-bagged balcony.

Early Tuesday, the Israeli government decided that enough was enough. It ordered tanks and soldiers to root out the Palestinian shooters.

At first, Israelis in Gilo applauded the military maneuver, no matter how much international criticism their country was receiving for its first prolonged stay in an area supposedly under Palestinian control. One woman said she felt that Tuesday was ''our Independence Day.''

But the shooting did not stop, not Tuesday and not for most of Wednesday. In fact, it intensified. More mortar rounds than ever, half a dozen, fell on Gilo overnight and Wednesday afternoon -- landing by a school, on top of an apartment building, in an open field. No one was hurt in those attacks. But people were shaken.

''I think things are worse,'' Ms. Attias, 42, said as she returned home from a brief shopping trip. ''It's two nights since I last slept.''

''It's not that I think we shouldn't have done it,'' she said of the army's taking over parts of Beit Jala. ''But we should have done it more thoroughly. Then we might have avoided all this new shooting.''

In Beit Jala, a largely Christian town, there has also been no love lost for the gunmen who entered their town months ago -- mainly Muslims from the Aide refugee camp who began to shoot routinely at the Jews in Gilo. In off-the-record conversations, some Beit Jala Christians admitted to feeling intimidated by the outsiders.

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But for the moment, nationalism trumped religion. Anger against the Israeli soldiers was widespread, though the Israelis sought to ease one source of provocation today by leaving the Lutheran compound that had been seized on Tuesday. Several dozen children from a church orphanage who had been trapped inside were able to go outdoors.

People in Gilo also felt trapped.

''Last night there were mortars,'' Assaf Yosef said, waiting at a bus stop with his 8-month-old son.

Life in Gilo is conducted these days behind rows of concrete barriers stretched along streets that are in a direct line of fire from Beit Jala. Pastoral scenes in pastels cover many of the barriers, a not-overly-successful attempt to ease the grimness.

Workers installed bullet-proof glass in apartment windows on front-line streets, though some people, like Mr. Yosef, asked if it was a case of too little, too late. The Palestinians, they said, have moved on to higher-caliber rounds and mortars that can penetrate this new defense.

In an odd way, Gilo has become something of a tourist attraction for other Israelis, who drive up to peer at the Israeli tanks, ducking behind the concrete barriers when they hear bursts of shooting. It is a popular site for some young Hasidim, perhaps because it is about as close as they may ever get to war, given that they are generally exempt from military service.

Moshe Mizrahi, a Gilo resident who has had his share of sleepless nights, also went to the barriers on Wednesday to have a look. Asked how he would deal with the situation, he swept his hand toward Beit Jala and Bethlehem. ''Wipe it out,'' he said.

No, Ms. Attias said, that is not the answer. ''No way,'' she said. ''We wish the Palestinians in Beit Jala only the best. But they should stop shooting at us. We want to live.''

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A version of this article appears in print on August 30, 2001, on Page A00008 of the National edition with the headline: Gilo Waits for Deliverance As Mideast Violence Goes On. Order Reprints|Today's Paper|Subscribe